Dishes
by ArmedWithAPen
Summary: Ventress's temper reduces her to washing dishes, and a certain bounty hunter happens upon the scene. Durge/Ventress, of sorts. One-shot.


_A/N: Well, I told myself I wouldn't, and yet, here we are. XD Dedicated to Toni America, who said something along the lines of, "Obi/Ventress all the way, but this pairing sure is interesting." Enjoy!_

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Ventress, Durge, or Dooku, but I just might own the dishwashing droid. Do they have such things in the _Star Wars_ universe? _  
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"Of all the silly, childish, ridiculous, inane, juvenile…"

Ventress's quiet seething was lost in the rough scrubbing noise her washcloth made against the pan. Up to her elbows in bubbles, the assassin stood at the sink of the spacious kitchen of the Separatist flagship, washing dishes. Stainless steel made the place look no better than the medical bay she hated so much.

Her soft growls slowly faded into silent fuming.

_Probably better that I _don't _speak, _she mused. _Dooku's always listening to every word I say. I'd probably be in for a worse punishment if he heard me._

Still, though she grew mute, the vicious way she scrubbed the pots and pans betrayed her true emotions.

_Stupid, foolish, immature…_

It had been an honest mistake! Ventress had been dueling with Grievous in the training rooms in the lower quarter of the ship, just to keep her skills up. Some part of her knew that the cyborg was going to win, _(he had four arms for heaven's sake) _but she hadn't imagined that he was going to beat her quite so badly.

Incensed, Ventress had plucked herself from the rubble, quickly gathered up her lightsabers, and stormed from the room before he could gloat.

Still furious, she made her way to the kitchen for something to eat. But upon entering the door, she tripped over a droid, which she deftly smashed into a soda can with some choice expletives.

Just as Dooku had walked past.

Hence, she was standing there, in that wretched kitchen, scrubbing plates like a common scullery maid!

All she needed now was for someone to see her.

"Ventress?"

Her hands froze in the water. _Oh, for the love of the Force…_

Swallowing, Ventress glanced over her shoulder. "Hello, Durge."

The bounty hunter's massive frame stood in the doorway, a glass clutched in his fist.

Apparently getting over the initial shock of seeing Dooku's powerful dark acolyte waist deep in suds, Durge shook his head. "You know, we have a droid for that."

"Not anymore," Ventress growled, returning her attention to the dishes. "I killed it."

"Ah. I see." Durge's voice was practically overflowing with mirth. "So this explains why Dooku's apprentice has suddenly become the resident dishwasher."

"Watch yourself, Durge," Ventress hissed in warning as she dried a plate. "In case you haven't noticed, I am not in the best of moods."

The words that had meant to frighten him only appeared to amuse him further. With a rumbling chuckle, Durge moved towards the fridge, glass in hand. He put the glass under the automatic water dispenser and watched with dissatisfaction as the tiny stream fell inside.

"Hasn't somebody fixed the valve yet? This thing is still so slow!" He shot Ventress a pointed glance.

She quickly raised her soapy hands. "Just because I've suddenly become the dishwasher doesn't mean I'm a handy man. We have a droid who does that thing, too."

"Sure you didn't kill it on your way down here also?"

Snarling choice swears under her breath, Ventress pivoted stiffly and plunged her hands back into the dishwater, concentrating hard on not blasting the bounty hunter through the opposite wall.

Durge laughed. "Come, come, Ventress, I'm only teasing," he said, moving away from the fridge and approaching the sink.

With each step he took, Ventress felt the warmth from his enormous shoulders increase against her skin. Or maybe that was just her face blushing.

_Why? It's just Durge. Don't be a moron, Asajj, he's just a friend. Not even a friend, really, just a comrade._

"I'd appreciate your teasing more if it was silent," she muttered venomously, taking a freshly scrubbed skillet from the water and laying it on the counter to dry.

"As you wish," he smirked. The black eye-holes beneath his helmet were definitely sparkling with amusement.

_Must not kill the bounty hunter. Must not kill the bounty hunter. Must not kill…_

Ventress focused her annoyance on continuing to clean a sharp knife.

However, as she did so, she was suddenly quite aware of Durge hovering over her back. Why, she could not imagine, but whatever it was, she wished he would stop it. Friend or not, her hands were trembling terribly at his nearness, so much so that she refused to raise them from the water in case he might see.

She dropped the knife twice, making an audible clatter against the bottom of the sink.

True to Ventress's request, Durge remained silent, standing at her right hand and watching stoically as she polished the dishes. For a while, the only noise between the two of them was Ventress's washcloth, the lapping water, and Durge's breathing.

The assassin propped a dish on the drying rack, brushing Durge's arm as she did so. Feeling her stomach flip, she quickly snatched her hand back and busied herself with the next bowl.

There was more silence for a moment. Ventress casually tugged at her high collar. Funny how the absence of sound could be so deafening. She wished he would leave. He was creating these odd emotions in her, so odd that she felt like a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode.

More moments of scrubbing. No noise but scrubbing.

Then, Durge spoke. "You missed a spot."

Of all the things he could have said, that had been the worst.

Ventress lost it.

She seized the knife from the drying rack and whirled, fully intending to slice Durge's head clean off his massive shoulders. He could try growing _that _back for a change.

But equally as fast, the bounty hunter's hand flashed out and grasped her wrist tightly, stalling the knife in its deadly arc. "Ah-ah-ah, Ventress, not so fast. What would your master think?"

Who cared what Dooku would think? Ventress was going to let Durge have it, whether he wanted to or…

Whether he wanted…

Whether he…

_Oh, Force…_

Never had she been so aware of Durge before. Suddenly, with her knife-wielding arm pinned in his strong grip and his massive body practically surrounding her in iron, Ventress felt incredibly small. And weak. And vulnerable.

And to make matters worse, she liked the feeling.

She didn't mind the weakness. For a moment, she enjoyed feeling weak in comparison to him, giving her the illusion that she needed protection, strong arms, someone solid to hold on to.

Apparently, Durge was feeling the same things.

Slowly, he lowered their arms back to his side, staring at Ventress as though he had never seen her before.

His smooth breathing suddenly grew very uneven. Uncharacteristically gentle, he released her wrist, and placed both of his massive hands on the counter on either side of her waist.

The gesture made a red blush rise to Ventress's pale cheeks, and she knew no act of the Force could hide that from him.

He swallowed audibly. Slowly, he moved closer, his head lowering towards hers. "Ventress…"

Her name whispered on his lips made her heart do funny things in her chest. Everything around her was beginning to swirl and fade into a blur, so that there was nothing left in the world except them.

She began to forget who she was. Forget who _he _was. She forgot where they were, what they were doing…

The only thing she was aware of was him closing in on her, his helmet growing closer to her face, his hidden eyes boring into her soul.

That, and a light trickling sound.

Jerked out of dreamland, Ventress glanced towards the fridge. "Durge, erm…your water…"

The glass had long since overflowed, and the water was now pooling in little rivulets on the floor.

With a swear, the bounty hunter lunged away, seized the cup, and snatched it from the stream of water. "For the love of…" The rest of his curses were drowned out by unintelligible snarls.

Ventress chuckled, partially relieved that the moment had been broken, but more overwhelmingly disappointed. Quickly, before awkward silence could form, she thought of a light jibe.

"A bit distracted, were we?" she teased, attempting to remove the krayt dragon in the room.

Durge stared at her for a moment, before laughing quietly himself. He cleared his throat. "I just, uh…I just forgot about…about it, so…yeah…"

He stumbled over his words. Ventress's grin was bright as a star. So, she wasn't the only one who was nervous, apparently.

At her smile, Durge seemed to lose his nerve. He tapped his glass anxiously and began to move away. "I'll just, uh…I gotta go, erm…fix my…fix my ship, yeah, that's it. So…"

He moved backwards, and promptly tripped over a chair. "Kriff! Oh, right…chair, heh, yeah, who put that there…um…bye."

He practically sprinted out the door, leaving a very amused Ventress in his wake.

The dark assassin placed her hands on her hips, shook her head once, and grabbed some paper towels to soak up the spilled water.

_Well, that was uncharacteristically bumbling of him. Wonder if Durge…?_

She thought for a moment. Then she smirked and shook her head. _Nah._

Meanwhile across the ship, Durge leaned against the wall of his room to stabilize himself, futilely attempting to calm his furiously beating heart.

_You're a fool. It's Ventress we're talking about! Asajj Ventress! With the pale skin and those creepy clear eyes and that evil smile…_

All of it so incredibly beautiful.

Durge groaned and slumped to the floor, his helmet in his hands. He had almost kissed her. He had never wanted to kiss a woman so badly in his entire life. Which was a very long time.

He would have too, if that stupid glass hadn't ruined the moment…

_Wonder if she'll be washing dishes tomorrow also? _

He slammed his helmet against the wall, and hoped to the heavens that Dooku would get that replacement droid soon.

FIN.

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_A/N: So? What'd you guys think? I don't think it's as good as Ointment, but I tried. So, review! Would you guys like to see more of these? _


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